Family Secrets: Books 5-8

by Virginia Kantra

  I was exhausted. To her great shame, shed never made it back downstairs after discovering that Joes boat was gone. It had depressed her. Tell me something. If Amando brings everyone here, how do we get back to the mainland?

  Youre going home? He looked stupefied. Whats up with you lately anyway?

  Nothings up with me. I just want to spend the day in Portimao.

  Why? Weve got a good time going on right here.

  She put her mug down on the counter. Which I am so obviously not a part of.

  What do you mean?

  Now he was deliberately playing dense, Honey thought. Shed grown up with this guy. She knew his tricks. Look at it this way, Marcus. If I leave for a while, all of you can whisper and commune about your nutsoid genes with utter impunity.

  Honey, youre not making any sense here. Not that you generally do. She watched him rake a hand through his hair.

  Honey held her own hand up and began ticking fingers off. Weve got in residence your voodoo sister

  Its Gretchens house! His voice was rising. She married Kurt!

  Be that as it may. Weve got her and now weve got one top-notch White House advisor holed up here, too. Weve also got this Ethan Williams who

  Oh, come on. Hes filthy rich. He just jets around. He and Sam go way back.

  Honey thought about that. Maybe hes in on this, and maybe hes not. Ill figure it out later. Right now Im going to leave all of you to whatever it is youve told everyone not to discuss with me, and Im going to go to the mainland and kick up my heels. She was also damned well going to find access to a computer and look up some of those old newspaper articles about designer boulder-lifting babies. Matt and Carey had probably brought a laptop with them with a wireless modem, but she wouldnt even bother to ask them if she could borrow it. She knew a brick wall when she hit one.

  How do I get in touch with Amando? she asked again.

  Marcus looked at his watch. Go to the cove. He should be here sometime this morning. Jake and Tara flew in last night and hell be bringing them over.

  Okay. She started to turn away, then she looked cannily over her shoulder again. Jake who?

  Ingram.

  Holy She broke off and dragged out a kitchen chair. She dropped into it hard. And you honestly expect me to buy into this whole just-a-wedding-going-on-here-folks business?

  He stared at her unblinkingly. Jake is a friend of

  Jake is a financial genius whos been hired to look into that whole World Bank Heist business! she interrupted. And, she remembered as her heart rate escalated, hed also called Matt Tynan once when shed been in Tynans office at the White House. Matt had given her some song and dance about it being a relative, not the Jake Ingram. She hadnt believed him, but it hadnt seemed important then.

  For that matter, shed been in his office that day in the first place to give him an envelope Carey had asked her to deliver before shed tucked tail for Kansas. Carey had made her swear on the lives of those orphanage puppies and other assorted loved ones not to snoop and read what was inside. Honey kicked herself now for not doing it. Ten to one whatever it had been was tied to this hoopla.

  So Jake Ingram was involved in this, too, and Carey and Matt were in up to their ears. Whoa, Honey thought.

  Well, hes that, too, Marcus was saying. Hes involved with the WBH investigation.

  He heads the investigation. Honey focused on him again. But what does he have to do with you slinging boulders around like they were balloons?

  Oh, for Gods sake, Honey. I didnt sling anything and if Id known you would react like this I wouldnt have done it in the first place.

  Too late. You did. I reacted. She tunneled her fingers into her curls and stood again. Jake Ingram. Jeez-Louise.

  Marcus grabbed the full coffee carafe and began backing toward the big room again. Oh, yeah, she was definitely going to find herself a computer in Portimao, Honey decided. Ill catch you at dinner, she said.

  What do you have up your sleeve now? he asked warily.

  What do you have up yours? she shot back, then she slipped through the stairs door and trotted up to the bell room.

  Max was indulging himself. He rarely did, at least in this fashion, but neither did he generally come to the mainland for anything other than a specific purpose, such as supplies, or the much-dreaded bimonthly phone call to his sister in Pittsburgh. For purposes of his willand it was a slammerit was more or less necessary for someone in the world to know that he was actually alive. Hed chosen Elizabeth. Of all his siblings, he was closest to Liz. If she didnt hear from him every other Thursday morning by noon her time, she could sound an alarm. Other than that, she was to assume he was healthy and hale.

  But this wasnt Thursday and the sailboats larder, water and gasoline reserves were full. Max was in Portimao today for the sole purpose of escape, so he decided to have lunch at an outdoor bistro across the street from the water. Normally he soaked up a quick dose of the mainland and booked back to the island immediately. But today he had time to kill.

  He was forcing himself to relax when he recognized Amandos little boat approaching the marina across the street. Elise was at the helm beside the little man. Max sat forward in his chair, bracing an elbow on the glass-topped table to stare.

  Something is wrong with your arjamolho, senhor?

  Yes! No. What? He looked up blankly at the pretty young waitress.

  Your soup.

  Fine. Its great. Its maravilhoso. He jumped up and pulled euros from the pocket of his khakis. He threw the money on the table. Got to go.

  Senhor, wait. Your change. You give too much.

  Keep it.

  The entire process of paying his bill had taken up just as much time as Amando needed to dock the boat. When Max looked again, the man was helping Elise onto the dock.

  In spite of everything he knew to be sane, Max paused then. He got frozen back in the moment when she had nearly collided with his motorbike and had gone sailing off the edge of the road. The look on her face then was the first thing he had noticed about her. Emotion so fierce and real, he had almost felt it. He couldnt see her face now. She was too far away. But he could have sworn the sun was brighter where she stood in a long, gauzy hot pink skirt and a very small purple tube top that didnt come close to reaching her waist. He thought her feet might be bare.

  She shielded her eyes from the sun to look around. What kind of idiot would come out in the peaking heat of the day with neither a hat nor sunglasses? Max answered his own question just as he felt her spot him. Not an idiot. A woman in a hurry to track down someone shed discovered was missing from a cove. He felt her gaze hit him like a fist.

  She waved at him. Max told himself to run.

  The next thing he knew she was dodging traffic, crossing the street, coming right at him. Not barefoot, no, he thought, though that would have suited her. In fact, she wore purple sandals so frail he knew they had to have cost four or five hundred bucks. When you got into the top designers, less was more. He knew. Camille had taught him so.

  Too late, he started to move again. She ran to him and caug
ht his arm, spinning him around to face her.

  Fancy meeting you here! She grinned.

  Actually, I was trying to avoid it. What kind of woman didnt take a hint? What kind of woman actually tracked a man down? He answered himself again. A rich little bombshell who was used to getting everything she wanted. Then, for reasons that escaped him, he gave her the benefit of the doubt and asked anyway. What are you doing on the mainland?

  Looking for you.

  Something punched him between the eyes from the inside out. And why would you want to hunt down a man who is obviously not interested in spending time with you?

  To convince him otherwise.

  Max had no idea where the laugh came from. It erupted from belly-deep. He scrubbed his hands over his cheeks; he still hadnt shaved with this trip in mind, so the friction made his hands itch. Youre insane, he said finally.

  Thats the general consensus.

  She said it lightly. But her face changed, he thought, looking at her again. Max reminded himself that he didnt want to know what made her tick. Then she sat at the table hed just vacated.

  What are you doing? he demanded.

  You left your wholeWhat is that? Breakfast? Lunch? She leaned forward from her seat to peer at his bowl.

  Lunch. People who get up before noon would know that.

  Can I have a bite? She reached for the spoon beside his bowl.

  No!

  She looked over her shoulder at him. Why not? You were just going to leave it from the looks of things.

  He told himself he was just being obstinate when he went around to his own chair and sat again. He pulled the bowl a little closer to himself. Mine.

  She sat back in her chair with a little sigh and a satisfied smile that told Max that somehow he had played right into her hands. Actually, Ive already eaten, she said. Twice. Rafaela is big on feeding people and Amando didnt come to the island until after noon.

  Max knew who Rafaela was. Her husband, Ricardo, was somehow distantly related to Lourdess family. Most of the villagers on Brunhia were related in some fashion, if not by blood then by marriage. He started to play dumb, just on principle, then her words finally registered. Amando took more people over there?

  Jake Ingram and one very pissed-off fiance.

  Why was Tara pissed off?

  Honey felt her own eyes narrow. I didnt say her name was Tara.

  He took a quick scoop of food and didnt answer. Get yourself something to eat, he suggested instead. Its on me.

  She wouldnt even contemplate it, Honey thought. Shed seen the way his boat was anchored offshore a little way, not tucked into one of the berths at the marina. He probably couldnt afford the slip fees, she realized. Neither Honey nor Honoror the woman in between who seemed to be rearing her head repeatedly latelycould stomach letting him pick up the tab. Ill be right back, she said.

  It wasnt until shed found a waitress and had nipped her own credit card out of her tiny purse that she realized Joe might well use her brief absence to make an abrupt departure of his own. She jerked around again to look at his table. He was still there.

  Honey ordered a bottle of wine and hurried back to her chair. I am definitely growing on you.

  He lifted his gaze to hers. What led you to that conclusion?

  You just had ample time to run off. And you didnt.

  Maybe Im famished.

  Then maybe you ought to stop returning those chickens to Palomas family.

  He dropped his spoon with a clatter. Shed talked to Paloma about him?

  How did you know Jakes fiance was named Tara? she went on.

  Mind like a steel trap, Max thought, or the memory of an elephant, one or the other. You said Ingram, right?

  He watched her mind race through her eyes. Ah, bingo.

  The mans been on the front page of newspapers and various magazines ever since April when he was brought in to head the World Bank Heist task force.

  True.

  Hes engaged to be married to Tara Linden.

  Maybe not after this little visit to Brunhia, Honey mused.

  Why not?

  You want my guess? Shes one of those silver-spoon chicks. She doesnt do sea spray unless shes standing at the rail of a yacht, and she sure as hell doesnt do mule rides.

  He started to laugh again and it caught like a thorn in his throat. This woman hadnt minded the sea spray, he thought. Do you ride mules, Elise?

  Bite your tongue, she said. My daddy breeds thoroughbreds.

  Why doesnt that surprise me? Whos your daddy?

  Tom Jones, she said without missing a beat.

  And in spite of himself, Max found himself laughing again, enjoying her mind.

  He knows Im playing with him, Honey thought, and grinned inside. Oh, he was a sharp one. Then the waitress brought the wine.

  Whats this? he demanded.

  Its called wine with a meal. Very commonplace where I come from. You should know that. We hail from the same place. She was going to get to the bottom of this man, Honey thought, if it killed her.

  I never said I was from the east coast, he answered.

  You knew my accent.

  I travel. Drift, he corrected himself.

  You never did tell me where you drifted from.

  And it never occurred to you that maybe theres a reason for that?

  No matter what his words said, she thought, he picked up his wineglass and drank. He wasnt going anywhere, she decided. He was relaxed. Whats the reason?

  Youre annoying.

  She jolted a little, then she laughed. It felt so good to laugh like this, she thought, all the way up from her heart. If that were true youd have fled from this table whole minutes ago. Fifteen, at least.

  Yet, here he was. He tried to find a way to answer her question without giving her the truth. Steel-mill country, he said finally. Trentawney High School.

  Class of?

  Never mind.

  What did you drop out from? she asked.

  Who said I dropped out?

  Thats what drifters do first. Before they start drifting.

  His laugh touched her skin like warm sand. He didnt laugh nearly often enough, she decided.

  Okay, I dropped out, he said finally, pushing his bowl away.

  It was empty now, she noticed, all but licked clean. Oh, but he had been hungry. What a shame. She needed to figure out a way to get some food to him. You left Pittsburgh she prompted.

  I didnt say Pittsburgh.

  You said steel-mill country and thats the name of their football team. She watched surprise touch his eyes. Gotcha on that one, she thought. So you left Pittsburgh where you were a

  Beneficiary of a rich uncle.

  Her grin felt alive on her face. Oh, yeah, I forgot that part.

  I
worked in construction, he admitted. Me and my dad.

  Sounds nice. Why would you want to bail on that?

  It was a variation of the question that had him in hiding until he could find the answer, Max realized. Im not sure. Im drifting trying to figure it out.

  She leaned toward him. Isnt life funny like that? You can just be going merrily along, thinking everything is fine, then your skin starts feeling too tight for your body.

  He stared at her. That was exactly how life had felt before hed run. Yeah. His voice was suddenly hoarse. He grabbed his wineglass again.

  Bam-bam-bam and rat-tat-tat, she said.

  Huh?

  She shrugged, looking embarrassed. Just an east-coast expression.

  From Maryland, he clarified.

  Or thereabouts. Conover Pointe and the horses were in Maryland, but she considered herself a D.C. girl now. What kind of construction?

  He followed her without missing a beat. We bought old houses and renovated them, sold them again.

  Thered be a profit in that.

  There was after I got my real estate license and Dad and I could cut out the realtors.

  And you left that for your uncles boat?

  How many guys have a really great sailboat dropped into their laps in a lifetime?

  Well, she thought, if you were an Evans, they were a dime a dozen. True. I guess that would change things.

  But she knew that wasnt it, he thought, watching her face. Somehow, she knew. She was supposed to be a rich little princess. Why did she wear all her thoughts on her face like that?

  He heard himself telling her the truth. It got too big.

  The houses and the hammers and the nails?

  Yeah. It started out simple. There was satisfaction with each closing, even if we only made a couple of thousand. Those houses looked a damned sight better when we were through with them than when we first bought them.